Let's Write An Original Treaure Hunting Story

The idea is one person, me , starts the story. Another person comes along and ads to what's already been written. It might be one word or several paragraphs. Before long we should have one crazy treasure adventure.

Late one night Sneaky Pete was watching a Treaure Hunting show. In just 30 minutes the host's found 4 diamond rings with a metal detector, 5 ounces of gold panning, and then went diamond hunting and turned up a 6 carrot blue diamond.

Sneaky Pete said, well I can do that and be rich by next weekend. In short order SP quit his job via Twitter, packed a cooler full of champagne, and rushed to the Metal Detector Store where....

he met a wonderful lady who helped him sort through the endless number of metal detectors to chose from. With her advice and helpful information he left the store with his new Garret AT Pro metal detector...and a phone number from that nice lady who had helped. Sneaky Pete had already found some treasure and the metal detector was still in the box.
On his way home his mind was racing. Sneaky Pete had an idea, I need to travel to the far reaches of this planet and find the rarest treasures on earth. Someday I will be on T.V. and I will be the envy of all detectorists....he immediately grabbed his phone and called a travel agent and was mentally making plans to travel to.....

Indiana. He had also been told to join www.treasure.net
While reading some beginner suggestions that are endless, he came across a post by Mzjavert. After reading one of her most recent posts, he became very suspicious. This "Let's Write An Original Treasure Hunting Story" had too many similarities to his own recent experiences. He decided to investigate by making a trip to Indiana and search for the author of this post. Of course, Sneaky Pete also realized, at the very least, he would need someone with literary skills to document,,,

He packed his ghillie suit , a hard loaf of bread ,cheese and ring bologna for a recon of Clark historical park ;thinking a quick swing through Knox county and recovering John Morgans gold cache would be just the thing to finance further adventure.

After a couple hours in the middle of the night being interrogated at the sheriff's station and arguing that the signage regarding no metal detecting was not visible from his parking spot ..S.P. posted bond for violating the park closed at dark rule.
" We understand tired travelers napping a while but your unwinding with a detector violates too many rules".
The meager pile of grubby coins and trash from the playground in sight of the parking lot he had on him when the officers spotlight ruined his night was hardly worth the 150 dollar bond argument seemed to detract from any other intent, and finally he was free to go.
And go he had. Right to a big box store where he bought a cheap shade canopy ,a rolling cooler,some posterboard and a stake.

Still wearing a hoodie and jogging shorts he backed into the lot back at the park.
A rental car with a local plate would be better ,but it was early Sunday morning and no time.

Quickly erecting the shade canopy he leaned on the stake and planted the " Roger's reunion " sign. Probably needed a permit for that " he said to himself.
Looking about the site he watched two joggers headed deeper into the park and passing a dog walker headed the same direction.
Rolling the cooler to the nearby woodline while chanting " risky,risky" and another glance around ; he kicked a pile of duff aside and retrieved his jeans from the night before.
The pantlegs were tied at the bottoms and his belt was cinched tight at the waist.
With a satisfying thump they were dropped in the cooler.
" Just a little farther" S.P. told himself.
A few minutes later the shade canopy and sign were mute testimony and the only sign he had returned.

Just before turning out of the park , a patrol car rolled into the entrance at the other end of the lot.

" Easy does it" S.P. said out loud as he waited for a car to go by....

4 aircraft later the de Havilland DHC roared a tight turn over a bay on the s.e. corner of the island.
" It's all ours " said the pilot and turned back out over the water for a straight shot into the bay.
The " Beaver"'s pontoons touched just right with a swish as they touched the bank.

" We gonna dig here"? The pilot asked, while S.P. rummaged around the cargo area with a bit too much clanking for his nick-name on what was supposed to be a quiet in and out run.
"We're 11meters above sea level here " S.P. replied. " Figure trying to get a ship in here with no motor ,at the mercy of the wind and still land at the right time of year to survive working in this cold water, time to fight the hydraulics and build walls to keep out water,all while not being noticed by passing ships or natives . Then you still need to beat the weather to get home ...or you stay here".
"We don't need to dig" , S.P. said as he stepped onto the bank looking at his compass and holding an axe.
"We need to find squarish "boulders" made onboard during a trip to this island".

The chill of a wet wind burned. Dark clouds brushed the treetops as garbage trapped against a fence. A big storm was approaching and Pete knew it wouldn’t be long before they would be in the thick of it. He swung his gear over his back as the tail of his shirt snapped in the wind.
“You best be moving along, their’s a super cell heading our way” “Super cell?” the pilot chirped.
“Yes, a big storm coming in from the south. "
A large drop of rain tapped against a stone and then another as the sky lit up.